


I Love You Bat-man

by deaddemonbunny



Category: The Venture Bros
Genre: Angst, Exhibitionism, Fluff and Angst, Guilt, Incest, Kinky, M/M, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Secret Relationship, Sexual Content, Twincest, Twins, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27132985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deaddemonbunny/pseuds/deaddemonbunny
Summary: Venture Bros Spoilers, fic based after series final episode.Dean is struggling to cope with the fact his brother vanished and left him alone to deal with a world they used to experience together. He becomes obsessed, not stopping until he can see Hank again. He tries to wrangle with some very strong, repressed feelings.
Relationships: Dean Venture/Brown Widow, Dean Venture/Hank Venture, Sergeant Hatred/Dean Venture
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will have multiple chapters, multiple pairings, and many sexual situations. Look out cause the party is just gettin started

Humans can be so depraved, tortured, and worn down, but their souls find a way to compartmentalize their trauma and fill their time with what little pleasures they know. Assumedly, that is how it all got started, with the many nights of deep loneliness, the locking mechanism on the outside of their beds, and the terror of the unknown ready to devour their hearts. The control their father had over them with the added mixture of confusion from inconsistency and lack of a greater understanding, fueled their curiosity and revolt. 

At the start of their puberty, Dean and Hank began a very cautious dance around one another. They were but young teenagers when they began their descent into a special kind of sin. It was never to be spoken of and of course they both kept their promise. Even as they died and were reborn, they stayed close and loyal to one another. They were very good at hiding things. Collectively, they made a habit out of this wrong for years, but the outside world began to creep in between them. The vines of life outside the compound pulled them in different directions. Dean followed what he thought he needed and Hank just wanted to have fun and get away from his dad and all the expectations. Hank did not want to always be the lesser in comparison to Dean. His dad liked Dean more anyway, this they both knew, but neither felt his love, because he had almost none to give. 

Dean sat beside the hospital bed, staring down at the depressing form of his brother bandaged and resting. He reached out and stroked his hair softly, silently pleading for him to be okay. He hated what he had done with Sirena. Hank didn't deserve this. Dean wanted to go back in time and take his choice back, just tell her, "NO THANK YOU," but it was too late. He was self destructive and blew up his relationship with the one good thing he had left. Dean leaned in and rested his head against his brother's chest and listened to his breathing, slow and steady. It made him feel relieved to know Hank was really alive. Even with all the machinery telling him the truth, he hated to look at it and keep confirming what he had done to Hank. Dean was responsible for this, he would punish himself until Hank woke up and spoke to him again. 

Hours passed in the hospital room, the digital clock on the wall glowed soft red, and when it hit 20:00, visiting hours were up. Dean didn't leave though. He stayed right there and gripped at Hank's hand, until a nurse came by to ask him to head out to the lobby. Hesitantly, he obliged. 

Curled up on an empty bench, he thought about the days where Hank and himself spent long periods alone together. Dean closed his eyes and drifted into a nap, which turned into a full night's rest, where he dreamed of them adventuring side by side through chaos. 

He was woken by one of the hospital staff early in the morning, informing him of his brother's disappearance. Dean did not want to lose him again. He had missed Hank so much, more than anything he'd ever lost or misplaced. He quickly got up from the bench and darted through the hallway, opening the stairwell door and hurrying down the steps, even though he grew tired and weaker he did not stop running until his feet hit the outside pavement. He panted, hands on his knees just a moment before standing straight and scanning the people walking on the freshly snow-plowed sidewalk. He cried out his brother's name, heading close to the people walking and frantically looking about. Every person that passed by could have been him. His mind kept demanding he look again, panic setting in. He started to mindlessly head in the direction of VenTech, eyes still scanning every person for that familiar face. By the time he reached his family home, he was trembling and clutching himself tightly. He was not dressed for this weather, he was dressed to sleep on a hospital bench and wait in the heated air. Shakily, he pushed open the door to the front lobby, teeth chattering. The rush of warm air from inside the building made him shudder for a different reason. Dean shut the door behind him and sighed, staring out the windowed glass door. 

"Dean! Hey Dean! How's Hank?" Footsteps hurried up beside him, then a hand rested on his shoulder. "Oh man, you're freezing kiddo! Did you walk all the way here from the hospital?" Sergeant Hatred questioned, turning Dean so he would look at him. "Aww, you look so cold, come on, let's get you warmed up." 

The living room looked the same as it had been the last time he was here, which was probably just about 2 weeks ago now… he sat on the couch and sighed, kicking his boots off and hugging his knees to his chest. A blanket was draped around his shoulders without question, Uncle Hatred ruffled his hair and then hurried to the kitchen. 

Dean sat in silence, thinking only of Hank, questions plaguing his mind, concern eating him alive from the inside out. His eyes blank, he stared out the sliding door to the large balcony right alongside the living room. All the plants were decorated in snow, the deck and the pool cover were unseeable, under a fluffy thick layer, hidden until melted... Where was Hank? What was he doing right now? Dean hoped he was somewhere warm and somewhere safe. He hoped Hank would come back to him. The snow wrapped him into a memory, just from last year, when they still lived together, when things weren't so complicated and so many people weren't getting in their way. 

_ "Oh Deeeean~ You better look out." Hank said in a sing-song voice behind him, Dean spun around quickly, seeing a wicked smirk on Hank's face before a snowball smacked him upside the back of the head. He turned back, glaring at the offending force, and of course, it was Dermott. Another snowball hit him but from Hank this time. "Hey! That's totally not fair!"  _

_ Hank cackled and threw another snowball at him, striking Dean in his chest this time.  _

_ "Ohhhh, baby's nervous to have a snowball fight?" Dermott snickered and pitched another snowball, but this time he missed. Dean narrowed his eyes at his half brother and then leaned down to grab a handful of snow. He balled it up, while his brother's laughed at him, "Uh oh! Look out Dermott, Princess Dean-o might get ya!" Hank had on the most devious look, the one he often made when he was playing around with Dean and thinking of something diabolical to enact. Dean threw the snowball he made with all his might and hit Hank on the leg, leaving the air silent a moment before laughter ensued.  _

"Dean? Dean? You there buddy?" Uncle Hatred brought him out of his pleasant memory, holding a cup of tea right in front of him. "There you are, hey Deany. I made your favorite tea, with honey and sugar just like you like it." Dean stared down at the mug in his hands, letting the warmth radiate off of it to heat his hands and face. "Thanks…" He mumbled, giving a little nod. 

"So, how's Hank doing?" The sergeant questioned, unprepared for the waterfall of tears that would follow immediately after. Dean set the mug down on the table and leaned over, crying into his palms and covering his face. 

Sergeant Hatred gasped softly, staring at the poor boy in front of him who had simply broken into pieces before his very eyes. "Oh..oh Dean it's okay…" he rubbed the back of his neck, contemplating whether to comfort Dean physically or not. 

"Hank's...gone!" He sobbed, "He ran away! I ruined everything!" Dean cried out, then fell to his side on the couch, pulling his hood over his head and crying into that now. "It's all my fault! What's wrong with me!?" His voice was muffled in the couch, his hands now held his knees to his chest again. 

"Woah woah… slow down, Dean. Hank left the hospital?" Hatred leaned over and softly rubbed his shoulder.

"Yes! I was asleep in the lobby! The nurse told me he was just not there anymore! I had to go look for him… i went out to find him. I have to... It was my fault… It was my fault…" Dean cried softly again, craving the way Hank used to comfort him when he was sad. He wanted his arms wrapped around him, he wanted to lay against his chest and breathe softly and soundly with him again, but it was too late. No one would ever know him the way Hank does. No one would ever understand him the way Hank does, and not a single soul could take his place. No girlfriend or boyfriend he would ever have could fill the hole in his heart where Hank used to be. 

Uncle Hatred sat him upright on the couch again and sat beside him, taking the weight of Dean's lithe body against his side. He leaned over and grabbed the cup to hand to Dean again. "Drink this, little one…" He spoke softly and placed the cup in Dean's hand again.. He watched as Dean took a little sip, then inhaled deeply over the steam coming off the tea. The poor kid looked absolutely exhausted, pale to the point he was considering getting him a bucket of hot water for his feet and an extra blanket. Dean took another sip of the tea that his 'uncle' gave him, then showed a soft smile. "It's really yummy…" Dean's voice cracked a little, some color returning to his freckled face. Sergeant Hatred stood quickly, red in the face, "I'll be right back! You just wait here!!" He laughed a bit and backed out of the room at high speed. 

Dean looked back out the window wordlessly, nuzzling his face into the blanket around his shoulders. It smelled like fresh laundry, he could feel peace for a moment, live in a world where he hadn't fucked anything up. The reality was he'd soaked his shoes and pants in the snow looking for his brother, texting him, calling him, yelling for him, and occasionally crying a bit while his tears dried and froze to his cheeks. He was a mess. 

Vibrations startled him back and he scrambled for his phone eagerly, realizing now how numb his fingers really were. The message was from his roommate, Jared, asking him where he went and why he had left their room a mess and blood on the floor. The disappointment that rose in him to not see Hank's name on the screen made his will to reply nonexistent. He set his phone down on the table before him and sipped his tea again. Dean listened close to the movement in the house; it was utterly still except for what sounded kinda like running water.. He had not seen his father in quite a while and it seemed as though Brock was not here either, but he did not care right now. His eyes landed back on his phone again, until he heard footsteps coming down the hall. Hatred hurried out into the living room and over to Dean, still smiling at him. "You need to warm up Dean, come on." 

Dean didn't fight it, he just stood and walked along to the bathroom. Hatred took the blanket from his shoulders and nudged Dean into the bathroom, shutting the door slowly behind Dean and giving him a little wink before he shut it all the way. Dean stood in the warm bathroom, breathing the steam in as he inspected the room. There was a pair of his own old sweatpants from before he moved to the dorms and one of Hank's baggy t-shirts folded up together resting on top of a plush bright blue towel on the bathroom counter. Dean walked over to the counter and picked up the t-shirt delicately, pressing the fabric to his face and breathing the smell that was entirely his brothers and no one else's. He closed his eyes and just relaxed into it. 

Dean was sure he hadn't taken a bath since he was back in his learning bed, so he mellowed in the bath until the water wasn't warm enough anymore, enjoying the peace of the moment. 

He was warm and clean now and the clothes felt good against his drying, toasted skin. He ruffled his hair with the towel as he exited the bathroom and looked down both ends of the hallway. Dean didn't hear anything, he assumed Sergeant Hatred had returned to his post, probably even contacting Brock. He slipped silently down the hallway, his wet clothes draped over his arm. He stopped in front of his old room, Hank's new room, or… no one's room now. Dean stepped inside and looked around, examining all the changes with a heavy heart. He placed his clothing in the laundry basket in the corner, then walked over to the bed and sat down, hand stroking over the comforter. He pulled back the covers and tucked himself inside, burying his body and face into the sheets and pillows. Dean fell asleep clutching one pillow against his chest and face. 

"Dean. Come on. Wake up. You need to eat. You can't do this again." The soft voice peered into his dream and brought him out of his slumber. He turned over in the bed and saw Brock standing over him. "Come on kid. Get up." He leaned down and shook him a little bit. "Sergeant Hatred made you dinner. 'Syour favorite." Dean sat up and rubbed his eyes, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed. He grabbed on to Brock's hand, the way a toddler does in fear and walked with him out of the room. Brock did not pull away, he just led him to the kitchen. The feast was set up on the table and Sergeant Hatred was finishing up with some dishes in the sink. "Oh, you got him out! That's great!" He laughed a little giddy and smiled at Dean, but Dean just looked at him in confusion. 

Brock adjusted the blanket around Dean's shoulders and sat him at the table. He squatted beside him and put his hand on Dean's shoulder, gripping him meaningfully. "Dean, you gotta eat. Now I've got some business to take care of, but I'll be back tonight. We talk tomorrow morning. You understand?" Dean nodded at him and then hugged Brock around the neck and sniffled a little bit. Brock patted his back softly and then stood up to leave. "Take care of him. Make sure he actually eats." Brock said sternly to Sergeant Hatred before leaving them alone again. 

Dean stared at the food, admiring that it was all for him really, but suspicion got the best of him. "What's all this about? Why are you and Brock treating me like I'm sick or something?" 

The sergeant stared at him curiously, then sighed, "Dean, you've been laying in Hank's room for three days now… you've barely eaten anything and.. We're worried about you." 

The room was silent for a while as the information set in.

"We? Meaning you and Brock?" Dean spoke softly, glaring at his empty plate waiting for food. 

"Well you're Dad cares-"

"Oh don't start that with me! He doesn't give a shit!" Dean interrupted and stood up quickly, but dizziness overwhelmed him and he dropped back to his seat, looking pale and only half alive. 

"Oh no no… don't get up, come on, you need to eat!" Dean watched as the man before him, took his plate and began to pile food onto it. He set it in front of Dean then got some himself, so it wasn't awkward for Dean to eat alone. He nudged the fork closer and officially convinced Dean to take a bite. It was a very quiet meal, but food was eaten and that was all that really mattered. 

Dean stared out the window beside them, lost in thought while the table was cleared and food was saved. His plate remained in front of him, but he was too focused to eat anymore. 

_ Hank had pulled him out of the open and behind the partition located behind the seating in the X-2. Brock and their father were arguing over something pointless, they both had no interest. Dean felt the wall press against his back as Hank pinned his arms and their lips locked in a passionate, heated kiss. They could both still hear the other two talking at the head of the plane, but their hearts still pounded out of their chests. "Hank, be careful… Whatt if Dad sees?" He mumbled against his lips, but Hank surprised him with a soft laugh. "Who cares? He's an old fart anyways, never pays attention." Hank concluded before returning to their lip lock. Dean opened his mouth and licked at Hank's lower lip, their passion building further between them. Dean's arms were released so they could get closer and wrap their arms around one another.  _

"Hello there? Earth to Dean?" Hatred waved his hand in front of his face, watching as Dean blinked back to reality and then immediately flustered red in embarrassment over what he had been daydreaming about. "Ohoho, what were you thinking about?" Hatred laughed, but Dean did not seem pleased at all. He actually just seemed to be sadder. "Oh no, jeez, I'm sorry. I said the wrong thing. Dean… will you tell me what's up with you? This isn't like you." 

Dean looked up at him and glared, "How do you know what's me? I don't even know! And now Hank's gone and it's all my fault! I dont wanna lose Hank! I can't lose him! He's the only one that really understands me, he's the only one… he's… I-" Dean clutched the blanket around his shoulders more and sighed again, before standing up from the table abruptly. "Thanks for dinner Uncle V… I- I'm gonna… go. I need to check on something…" He didn't make eye contact, just turned and went back down the hall to Hank's room. He took out his phone and began his nightly search for articles posted from nearby places, trying to see any possible sign Hank might still be around. He knew it was futile, but he was going to keep trying. 

Brock returned the next day like he said he would and pulled Dean from his sleep yet again, this time it was around 10am and Brock seemed a lot less frantic and aggressive about his caring today. They headed to the kitchen together, Dean sitting down at the table while Brock served them from the leftover breakfast that seemed to have just been made half an hour ago. 

"Where's Dad?" Dean asked tenderly. 

Brock glanced back at him for a moment before he tossed the food in the microwave and let it heat for just 15 seconds. He said nothing until he brought the plates over and set them down. "He's back in the lab with Billy and Pete." Brock said simply, then grabbing the carton of orange juice from the fridge and two glasses, then he officially sat down, now having to look Dean in the eyes. 

"So... he doesn't care that Hank is missing, then." 

"Your dad just doesn't think Hank is missing at all. He thinks he ran away, so… he's not gonna look. He doesn't want anyone to look for him. Doc thinks it'll be a good 'lesson in discipline.'" Brock turned to look down at his food and picked up his fork to quickly start eating. He didn't look up at Dean, didn't want to see the astounded look on his face. It already hurt him to ignore Hank's lack of presence. He was still struggling with himself internally over it, but he had to be strong and confident for Rusty, since this was what he wanted. 

"How can you let him do this, Brock? What if Hank is out there dying or suffering? What if someone takes him?!" Dean was easily riled up with his shaky emotional state, desperate for someone to understand. Reaching his brother was his top priority right now and he simply couldn't fathom why it wouldn't be the same for everyone else. 

"Dean. You gotta go back to school. You've already missed 2 days of classes. You can't stay here and mope around all day anymore. Your dad wants you to leave tonight." Brock said sternly, making his point with a look that bore right into Dean's soul. Dean recoiled back against the chairs cushion and looked down at his food. They spent the rest of their breakfast in a humbled silence. 

Dean threw open the door to his dorm room and shut it quickly behind him. He barely even noticed that Jared was in the room, too, as he rested his small duffle bag on his bed and unzipped it. In the bag, he had very few things, but all were important. "Dude, where have you been? I was starting to get really worried about you, thought maybe you had died, been kidnapped or something…" 

"No, I was at the hospital with Hank and then I was home. That's it." He pulled out a blanket from the bag, placed it on his bed, then rezipped the bag without taking anything else out and slipped it under the bed. Dean glanced back at Jared, who seemed to be watching him like a hawk, making his nerves bristle. He huffed softly and kicked his shoes off, climbing into bed with the blanket he'd just taken out and curling up with it. 

"Why was Hank in the hospital? Is he okay?" Jared began to pry, obviously the situation was catching his interest. Dean did not respond however, he just hid his face within the folds of the blanket and breathed a soft sigh of relief. It was Hank's blanket and he didn't want to let it go at all, so he just stayed silent and let himself drift into a nap. 

_ The world around him was entirely dark, the air felt claustrophobic and he could hear nothing. Dean spun around in the gooey darkness, trying to break free as it clung to his skin. The walls started to melt down around him, the never-ending blackness eveloping him until his body was no longer visible. He gasped and opened his eyes to the interior of an old room he barely knew. He could feel the floor rocking beneath his feet like he was on water, but the windows to the outside showed nothing but a forever expanding space of nothing. Dean stood up from the couch and walked over to the door, jiggling the nob, but it did not budge. He turned and walked to the desk, resting his hands on the surface, but they started to sink into the wood. Dean yanked his hands away, now sticky with desk residue of some sort. He turned around and Hank was shutting the door behind himself. Hank did not have a face, but Dean could hear his voice. It echoed around him and rattled his body, making him dizzy as the dream Hank made its way closer. Hank put his hands on Dean's chest, pushed him back against the desk, then lifted him onto it. Dean was stuck there now, under complete control of the dream Hank before him. He was kissing all over his completely blank face and neck, hugging him closely. Dean was under his spell, unmoving, not fearing, even as Hank's blank face broke open and sprawled to reveal sharp teeth and evil surrounding his head. _

He gasped awake in his bed, panting heavily as his heart raced 100 miles a minute. Dean glanced to the window between the beds and saw the darkness of the outside. The street lights were on and there was the soft sprinkle of snow falling about and catching glints off the streetlights. It was a pure silence he had not heard in awhile, as if the whole world had vanished. Dean's eyes travelled over to where Jared was sleeping, gazing at his back for an unprecedented amount of time. He rubbed his eyes, curled into himself and rested his head on his knees. When he raised his head back up, Jared was sitting up in bed, looking at him from across the room. Dean inhaled sharply and sat up straight in his bed, still huddling Hank's blanket to his chest and between his legs. "Oh, you're awake… d-d i wake you up? Sorry…" Dean sighed slowly and shakily, his heart still racing slightly from his dream. 

"Are you alright? You seem very troubled." Jared slipped out of bed and walked over to Dean's side of the room; and though it was rather obvious Dean was uncomfortable, Jared sat on his bed and rested his hand on Dean's shoulder. "We're friends. You can talk to me, you know." 

Dean processed in confusion, trying to find the right things to say, the right lies to tell, to keep the peace between them. "Hank got hurt… it was my fault. Then he ran away…" He could feel the heat in his face again and the sting of tears in his eyes, "My dad… my fucking dad won't help me find him… he told me not to look." Dean hid his face back into the blanket, blinking his tears aggressively away, trying to be strong, like Hank, but he wasn't Hank at all. He knew he could not hide from the pain that coursed through him, the regret and betrayal plagued his mind. 

Jared reached out and softly stroked the back of his hair. It was awkward, but comfort was rare in Dean's life. Any intimacy was good. Dean leaned into the caressing, his mind mixing it all together, his body yearning for the way Hank used to touch him. He could feel Jared tense more as he got closer, but Dean didn't stop, he just kissed him and yanked him down on top of his body in the bed. Jared seemed startled by the contact, but did not yank away. Their frantic foreplay quickly turned to more, but in all those heated moments, Dean lost his grip on reality and fantasized deeply, keeping his eyes shut and Hank's blanket close to his face. 

In the morning, Dean woke with the feeling of a warm muscular body against his back. He did not want to move or interrupt his immersion in the comfort, so he just shifted a little and smiled to himself. 

_ "Ohhh look at you, just precious when you're waking up. You look all messy and cute." Hank purred, gripping Dean's waist and holding their bodies close. Dean laughed a little and shoved at his arm, "Oh shut up. You're screwing with me." He scoffed a little, shaking his head.  _

_ "No no! I swear, not this time, Dean-o. You actually look pretty adorable with your hair messy and your little blushy freckled cheeks." Hank teased, then went in to nuzzle his neck and kiss at the bare skin. Dean blushed harder, deciding not to say anything else and to just hold Hank tightly. It was rare they got this time and privacy. Dean couldn't even remember when the last time they had felt so free to express their strange affections for one another. Maybe it had never happened before. That moment burned into his soul, the feeling of pure bliss and acceptance there locked him into that place forever.  _

"You awake?" Jared asked, but Dean remained silent and still, keeping his breathing slow and steady. The memory of Jared's role in his fantasy flooded back to him and blossomed a seed of guilt in his chest. Dean had used Jared, but it had been awfully easy and even then, he really wasn't thinking straight at 3am. 

Jared slipped from Dean's bed and began getting dressed. The door opened and closed delicately after a little while, indicating Jared had left to shower or go to class. Dean didn't really care. He had plans for the day already. 

  
  



	2. Batman pranks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who knew a picture of some weirdo dressed as batman could make a person cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im having so much fun writing this DEAN AND HANK ARE IN LOVE 
> 
> NEXT CHAPTER I WILL POST A SPECIAL ART PIECE I FINISHED THAT'S RELATED TO THIS FIC so 0w0 look forward to that

Dean took his laptop and headed down to the courtyard. There was still snow everywhere, but this time he was ready for it. He dressed himself well for the cold, not wanting to end up worse than last time. Dean began his long search, looking up and down any alley he could find. He kept walking and searched the surrounding areas thoroughly, but when time had passed and he made no progress, the disappointment began to set in again. Though he was prepared this time, Dean was freezing through his cozy jacket. He was thin, small, and required lots of external heat to keep him warm. He couldn't help but sigh.

Dean made his way up a long and wide staircase, then slipped inside the heated library. Dean knew there was a library within his college, but that was not the same. He needed peace and did not want to run into anyone he may know from his classes. Last thing he needed was to spend more time with Jared. The guy was a bit obsessive with his last girlfriend so he didn't want to make it easy. He hoped their escapade a few nights ago did not entangle him in Jared's mind forever, though it seemed they had both let it go. 

The library was quite empty, except for the librarians near the front. He assumed more people were at the back, where lots of seating was, but the atmosphere was exactly what he was looking for. Dean strolled through the isles, stopping only to grab a book that looked of interest to him, then made his home at a two seat table. He opened his laptop, already connected to their wifi as he had been here many times before. Dean liked the sophistication of the off campus library much better. He longed for the solitude he once had within his old compound so this was a good substitute. 

He spent good time on his own personal search for what mattered to him most, fortunately, the world answered in his favor with just the tiniest piece of promise for a better future. The article itself was worthless to him, but the picture of a crowd of people plastered at the top grabbed him. Most of the people were not paying attention, but peeking from within, he saw Hank's batman mask and just couldn't help but burst out laughing at the sight. Dean started to cry too, not out of sadness really, out of joy and love for his brother. He was in a state of shock over his discovery, be it a small thing or not, he was glad it paid off. Now struck with adrenaline and bliss, Dean leaned back in his chair and sighed, it was a relief to just know Hank was still alive and safe out there. 

Dean decided to spend the rest of his time in the library working on some of the school work he'd been missing. He hadn't touched his classwork for over a week now so his teachers were growing suspicious.

The night time beckoned closer, time slipping through his fingers at lightning speed. He'd accomplished quite a lot, but not all of the work he'd missed out on. Dean was glad to be motivated to complete school work again. A librarian walked up to his table and informed him the library was closing in 30 minutes. It was already past 8pm apparently, he'd worked his entire day away. 

The cold air rushed around him, his body shuddering violently from the sudden temperature change. He pulled his scarf up over his mouth and clutched his jacket tight to his chest. His laptop rested against his chest between his jacket and the sweater he wore beneath. Dean slipped his phone from his pocket and examined his notifications, deleting most of them, before he went to the chat between himself and Hank. Still no response, reasonably so, but that did not stop Dean from sending another message, discussing his latest discovery. He wanted to talk to him and this was the second best, besides Dean was already good at holding a conversation with no one. 

His dorm room had been very quiet, with a particularly strange awkwardness hovering in the air. It was something that Dean had not felt before. They'd been avoiding each other more than anything else, not speaking a word. It seemed as though Jared regretted their decision as well. They both sat opposite of one another in nervous silence, but Jared spoke first through the frosted quiet. "A couple days ago.. That was just..." He trailed off, but did not hesitate long enough for Dean to respond. "I don't really… feel that way, I was just feeling lonely, I guess… I'm sorry." Jared answered truthfully and Dean stared at him for a long time, their eyes locking for a moment before Jared had to look back down. Dean nodded slowly, "Me too…" He caressed the soft blanket beside him and bit his lip. 

"Yeah… You seemed lonely, too." He paused a moment, "Hank will be okay." Jared watched Dean slip into emotional chaos, triggering him to blush furiously and stare in panic, but Jared just shook his head and smiled at him. "You're one strange guy, Dean, but who am I to talk about strangeness." He didn't say anything else, just picked back up the school work he'd been doing in his lap and continued effortlessly. 

Dean leaned back against the wall beside his bed and watched Jared for a while more. Did he know something Dean had never shared or was he just being paranoid? It could have been either, but Dean was confident in Jared's ability to keep a secret.

He picked his phone back up, the screen opened to his chat with Hank, where a new reply waited for him. Dean's heart skipped a beat and leapt from his chest into his throat, but a big smile crept over his face. 

The message read: ' _ The Bat will always be watching over you Dean… look out B)'  _

Dean leaned back against the wall and pressed his phone to his chest, letting a relieved sigh slip from him. 

The following days were easier, though Dean still searched for Hank, it was more of a game now than before. He began to see more glimpses here and there, not surprised that Hank may have the ability to hide in the background of every single photo in every article he read involving the surrounding 5 miles of this city. It became one of the best parts of his day to read the news from the local papers for anything interesting. Dean made a habit of going outside and walking in different directions around the city, hoping that he would just run into Hank and then maybe they could just escape together. He ended up fantasizing about the things they could do alone together, dwelling in the memories of what they had done with one another in the past. He could think of only the past few years and wondered if the past versions of himself had felt the same way about Hank. Dean toyed with the idea that they had shared special moments in their past clone lives just the same. All these people and all these problems had just gotten in their way and held them back from happiness. Dean texted Hank at least four times a day, no responses were necessary, though appreciated, he just... wanted to keep Hank in the loop. Well, of course, his loneliness jabbed at his heart repetitively, constantly prodding him to say something else to win Hank's rare responses. Dean began to grow more impatient, though, his mind raging on him with heavy thoughts constantly. He needed something to calm him, to let his mind be at ease. Dean had to contemplate his options, but the people on campus had the answers. He found someone, another college student and part-time a drug dealer, who sold him a ziploc filled with already ground up weed and a small, easily hidable pipe to smoke it in. Dean never thought he'd be doing this, but he understood why people did it now. The world was too much. 

He wandered off campus, heading to a gas station nearby and picking up a bottle of water and a cute decorated pink lighter that was covered in bright streaks of rainbow-ish light. Dean slinked off to a small hideaway within the trees that he had discovered in the park nearby. It was an area surrounded heavily by trees and bushes, fenced off from behind and around the left. No one could see him inside this spot, the trees before this area were too dense. He placed his newly acquired drugs on the ground in front of him and stared at them for a while before firmly deciding and beginning to pack weed into the pipe. He lit it and inhaled hard, making himself cough immediately, smoke spilling from his mouth and nose as he did. The coughing progressed his high quicker and with just one hit he felt his body relax and his mind fade pleasantly away. For once, he did not think much at all. He felt the appeal in this drug. He took another hit, inhaling slowly and exhaling gently this time so he didn't hurt his throat again. As he exhaled, the sound of trees rustling ahead made him scramble and fold up his bag to put in the inner pocket of his jacket. He had his pipe and lighter clutched in hand, about to hide it away, when Hank's face peaked into his little hiding zone. Dean stood up quickly and stared at him, flabbergasted that he was here, but instead of saying anything Dean yanked him into his little nature hide out and grinned at him. He was already so high and it was definitely obvious. "Hank… oh my god… I missed you so much… were you following me?" He giggled and rested his head against Hank's chest, "Yeah. Oh yeah, I've been following you a bunch, you're fucking crazy. I can't believe you bought weed. That's the last thing I would have ever expected from you." Hank chuckled and hugged Dean back only to get pulled down to the dirt with him. Dean pushed the pipe into Hank's hands with the lighter, "Honestly, it was weird doing it by myself without you here to try it with me." He leaned his head on Hank's shoulder and rested there a moment. "Did you read all of my letter that I left you in the hospital? I know I really fucked up Hank… i just can't live without you near me." Dean went silent now as Hank took a hit effortlessly, proving he'd definitely done this before. Dean wondered how much Hank had done without him, but then again Hank had always been far more independent and outgoing than he had. 

"I know Dean-o… i forgive you. It definitely wouldn't have worked out with Sirena anyway. I don't think she was that into me." Hank sighed, smoking more of the weed, while looking down at his younger brother. Dean seemed exhausted and heavily depressed, most likely overworking himself with school. Hank handed back the pipe and moved to to sit in front of Dean, gripping his shoulders tightly. "Have you been eating?" Hank spoke seriously, forcing the truth from him. Silence was enough though. "Okay then, well come on. Since you can't take care of yourself little bro," He yanked Dean up from the ground and tucked the pipe and lighter in Dean's coat, "Let's go eat." Hank lead Dean by the hand and there was no resistance. Dean hadn't felt so free in a very long time.

They spent all of their meal talking and laughing like old times, telling each other stories about their experiences apart. Both of them had so much to say to the other, wanting to fill in all the blanks and details important enough. Dean dragged Hank down to the bank with him and took out money which he gave immediately to Hank. He did not allow him to refuse, because he knew Hank needed the money and he knew their father was a bitter man with hardly one working brain cell. Dean knew their father would not see Hank the same, but Dean did not let Hank think he was any lesser. Dean hated knowing his brother felt inadequate and worthless, when he was so much more capable than Dean. He at least had the courage to make it on his own. 

The night started to melt around them, but Dean just gripped Hank's hand and walked with him in the city lights. Neither disturbed this rare peace between their colliding worlds. No one would question them out here. No one knew them, no one recognized their faces or paid attention, they were mainly free of scrutiny as the world moved too fast around them to care. The cold increased as the moon rose higher in the sky, but Dean refused to let this time end as Hank had been gone for far too long now.. "Stay with me." Dean spoke up, making eye contact with Hank. "We rent out a hotel room for the night." Dean gave him big puppy eyes and grabbed his arm, shaking him a little. "As long as i get to smoke all your weed." Hank joked and then scooped Dean up and put him over his shoulder, hitting Dean's ass then running sloppily down the street until Dean's struggling downed them both into the snow piled by the sidewalk. Dean sat up quickly, yelling in shock, "AW I GOT SO MUCH SNOW IN MY PANTS!" 

The hotel they found closest was a pretty fancy looking place, but Dean did not hesitate. He was very cold now that his pants had been doused in snow so he hurried inside and up to the counter. Hank looked around the place and did a few "ooo"'s and "aaa"'s at the decor, then scampered over to Dean's side. They rode the elevator side by side to the fifth floor that had their room on it. Dean pried more for Hank to tell him what he'd been up too. Hank ranted on, truthfully, about his personal journey. He'd been staying in a shitty motel, making a handful of cash everyday, mostly enough to eat. His fantastic charisma won him a free room in the motel if he helped out the owner sometimes. He would chaotically make his way through the city during the day, making some friends, dancing along with street performers, dressing as Batman and running through the streets. He'd taken to photo-bombing news reporters and journalists, helping people he meets, and jump-scaring people from behind corners, anything he found interesting in his free time. 

Hank was doing rather good on his own and he seemed very happy with his strange and eventful life. Dean admired that quality in Hank, loving that he always took everything so well. It made him feel safe with Hank. The confidence was power and Dean could never have that gift. He was too smart, too calculating, too anxious, to be what Hank was. They were so different, yet fit together like two puzzle pieces, balancing out the negative traits in each other. 

The hotel room had two beds, so they pushed the beds together and made the jobs of the housekeepers to come significantly harder. Dean took off his pants and hung them up in the bathroom, walking around in his boxers and a sweater. They built a fort with all the extra blankets and pillows on top of the two beds now flush together, making a massive surface area bigger than a California King bed. They threw the window open and popped out the screen. Dean placed the weed, pipe and lighter on the table, packed a new bowl and they sat in the dark and smoked, resting in the massive window sill. Hank kept smoking and smoking, blowing Dean out of the water. Two more hits easily shook Dean to his core and made him a giggling, flirty mess. Dean stood up and walked over to flop dramatically on the beds. He pulled himself into the fort and huddled in the warmth, as the window was open and the room was growing rather cold. Hank stayed smoking for a while more, giving Dean time to warm up and appreciate their coexisting. 

The window was shut and locked, then the curtains were pulled closed. The sound of Hank taking his own clothes off was the only other sound in the room besides the hum of the heater. The bed shifted and Hank slipped under the blanket fort with Dean, huddling against his side and pulling him close to his body. Dean sighed pleasantly, hugging Hank back and relaxing entirely. Another moment of perfection, something he wanted to stay in forever, made itself known. This was everything he's been wanting. Dean could not help but kiss Hank, heatedly, on the lips. He wanted to make the moment last, to keep it in his mind as long as possible. Dean ran his fingers through Hank's short and messy hair, admiring its softness. Hank huffed excitedly into their kiss and held Dean against his body, his hands touching all the places that made Dean shiver. They both knew the other so well it was easy to press their buttons. Dean tucked his face against Hank's neck and started to kiss along his skin and bite the tender places. He loved making Hank squirm. Both of them felt entirely comfortable with one another and weren't embarrassed to be themselves. "You trying to eat me like a dog right now, Dean-o? You do realize I could kick your ass ten ways sideways." Hank gloated. 

"Uh what does that even mean, dude? Like sideways ten times or-"

"No no! Don't overthink it! It's a dumb joke." Hank laughed at him, wiggling Dean around in his arms. 

"You're damn right it was." Dean struggled to maintain his position while Hank throttled him around and shook him up like a can of soda. "If you keep shaking me around, I'm gonna puke on you and we will have to move the fort to the other bed." Hank threw him down onto the mattress beside himself. "Ew! Don't vomit on me weirdo. You've already peed on TWICE!" 

"One of those was an accident and the other was your own fault. You shouldn't have been trying to scare me from the bushes!" 

"How was I supposed to know you were gonna pee on the bush like a dog?" Hank threw his arms out to his sides, scoffing and looking around in fake shock as if there was an audience. 

"What else would someone be doing standing near a bush while alone in the forest, at night?!" Dean cried out in astonishment, sitting up and staring at his brother incredulously. 

"Uhm, picking berries, bro. Don't try and make me the weird one here." He chuckled, staring at him for a moment in the dark of their bed fort before he grabbed Dean, hugging him close again. "I, uh... Agree with your letter, that you were an asshole… but I also missed you, like so fucking much. I can't believe it really. I was thinking about you all the time. I mean, you did sleep with my girlfriend but I was thinking about you when I was around her too. We were so far apart and it seemed like you were just doing what Pop wanted. You know that was the last thing I wanted to do! I just needed to just get the fuck away for awhile. I just wanna be my own person, not just 'The Shitty Twin', y'know? I hate that I can never be good enough for him." 

Dean pushed Hank back down onto the bed and they just laid together peacefully, their breathing synchronizing. "Yeah… I can understand that." Dean admitted softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be at least 2 more chapters to this. Stick around B)


	3. Distractions from Longing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to get advice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is placed 2 weeks before Hank's reappearance. (Art piece in end notes)

_ \-- 2 weeks before _

Dean sat in the lab of Ventech towers, leaning against the cold metal steel of the table nearby where Billy and Pete were working together on a project. He was watching them quietly, wondering if his father ever actually did anything here at all. He was filled with doubt, seeing as anything getting done is thanks to the two people he's looking at right now. They both would be more helpful in 5 minutes than his father in his whole life. "You guys ever do something you know isn't really- uh… right? Something that you know someone close to you would think is downright awful?" He glanced up and saw both of them looking at him with curiosity in their eyes. 

"Oh sure, I've done tons of stuff I regret, kid. It's a wild world out there. I'd be surprised if you hadn't done anything overtly embarrassing. I mean you're Rusty's kid!" Pete smiled at him, but Dean made a face and looked to Billy. 

"But what if i don't regret it? What if I never feel regret? I mean, would it be so bad if I wanted to do it more?" Dean tentatively questioned, trying to hold back any overly incriminating information. 

Billy was now fully invested in the conversation, having set down what he was working on to give Dean his full attention. "Well, i guess that depends on what it is, but you're not evil. I'm sure whatever you're doing isn't too morally complex, you've just gotta trust yourself." 

Dean stared down into his lap, fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie for a moment, "If i told you guys, would you promise never to tell my Dad? Brock probably shouldn't know either… I don't want to even imagine what they would think of me if they knew." He rubbed the back of his neck, head lowered to avoid eye contact. 

Billy and Pete exchanged a look of interest and concern for the young boy before them. Now they both were focused, making sure Dean knew they wouldn't tell a soul. Dean sighed deeply and pushed his bangs back from his eyes habitually, though most of the long locks slipped back in front of his face. "I… I think… I think that I am in love with Hank. Like, love love, not....sibling love. I want to kiss him and be around him all the time… No one else has ever given me that feeling, even Triana didn't feel the same. I mean, she never loved me, but…" Dean paused, silent now as he waited for anyone else to say something. He barely wanted to look at them but he forced himself to peer up at them with those doe eyes, tears forming at the corners. 

"Uh… well i.. I didn't expect you to say that." Billy admitted, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment, then he looked at Pete who smiled at him and winked. 

"You know, at least ya ain't identical twins. That way it's way less weird." Pete patted Dean's shoulder, "And let's be honest, I think Brock, at least, already knows." Dean looked up at him in shock, stammering a bit, but Pete cut him off before he could say anything. "Sorry, pally. Just the truth. Brock's a real observant fellow." Pete leaned forward, chin in hand, showing his interest. 

"How does Hank feel about this? Does he know how you feel?" Billy studied Dean's reactions and monitored his behavior very closely, noticing how tense he was. "Don't worry, we won't say anything to your dad about this. We are pretty good at keeping secrets." He smiled fondly at Dean, knowing the kid wouldn't say anything if he was uncomfortable. 

"Well i mean, you know I'm a little bit of a ta-" Pete was cut off by a powerful, heavy glare Billy sent him, knowing immediately the sign meant serious business and Pete needed to shut the fuck up right now. 

Dean sighed, exchanging looks with both of them, then just gave a soft nod and fidgeted with a different part of the sweater, keeping his eyes down. "Yeah… Hank knows, but he's known for a long time, since we still lived in the compound. I don't remember much from all my past lives, but I do feel as though I've always quietly felt this way. We used to talk about whether we thought our past selves had these feelings too or if they ever did anything weird like us. I tried, told myself a thousand times just to give it up and find another, but I just can't let him go… we've done so many things and been through so much together, I can't take being away from him for so long. And I don't mean since he's been missing, I mean since everything started to fall apart between us. We used to be so close… then we got so bitter with each other and I just kept fucking everything up!" Dean covered his face with his hands and sighed into them, overwhelmed by his decision to spill all of the beans. "I don't know why he would even want to give me another chance after what I did, but i just know I need to, AT LEAST, talk to him again… I can't live without him." 

"Well… may I ask you a question?" Billy inquired, trying to respond delicately, since this matter was a sensitive one. 

Dean nodded curtly and braced himself. 

"Why did you sleep with Hank's girlfriend?" The air was rather quiet, both men had their full attention on Dean. 

"I…I was jealous of her, of the fact she was taking Hank away from me… i just thought, if I could break them up it would be better. She seemed kinda into me and I knew she wasn't good for him… I mean i thought she was sweet don't get me wrong, i just didn't feel that way about her. She just said something...something i heard before that just made me feel alive and-" Dean kicked his feet a little, face flustered red with embarrassment. 

The sound of a door closing perked them right up and light footsteps made their way closer. "Oh, well Dean, glad to see you're taking some initiative to further your career in super science, but Daddy has work to do, so get up and get out." Doctor Venture spoke in a firm tone, shooing him away from the table when he got closer. Dean got up and looked at Pete and Billy for a final moment with worry in his eyes, then he turned and left. They began to talk about the project they had been working on before he had entered the room as Dean reached the door, then he slipped out quietly and could hear no more of the discussion. As he headed back towards the living area, Dean let himself drift into a pleasant, comforting memory.

_ Under the guise of the darkness and the full moon light, it was easy to forget who you were and become something better. Rarely did they get to be outside so late, but it was a special occasion. Halloween gave people the chance to open up and feel more like themselves. Hank prowled around the trees, ducking and hiding within the bushes and branches. He growled and peered around a large rock, watching Dean sneak around nervously a few get away. Hank stalked out, curving around behind Dean and growling louder. "What are you even supposed to be?" He spoke as gruffly as he could, but his voice cracked with his youth.  _

_ "I-I'm a cat! You know that, I told you earlier…" Dean turned to watch as Hank was circling around him and grinning wickedly with his sharp fake teeth.  _

_ "Ohhhhh so, you're the perfect meal for a werewolf then, huh? How ironic I find you out here all alone, little pussy…" Hank laughed evilly, then quickly pounced on Dean from behind, knocking him to the ground easily. He flipped him over and pinned him down, "I got you now little kitty!" Hank leaned down and started to bite and grab at the flesh of Dean's neck, going down to his collarbone. Dean gasped and whined, wriggling under the strange torment. "H-hey, cut it out-"  _

_ "Dean! Are you…. Are you turned on right now?" Hank grinned, laughing a little more as Dean started to blush. "Ohhhh! Dean, you're a bad kitty cat! You know you're not supposed to like having your throat eaten by a werewolf!"  _

_ "Well maybe you should bite harder and kill me next time." Dean pushed Hank off of him, crossing his arms in defiance and pursing his lips when he sat up. _

_ "Awww Dean-o, thanks for the advice. You're right! Let's try it again!" Hank cackled and pinned him down in the dirt one more time. _

"Oh Dean, you sad little thing. You're always walking around here looking like the ghost version of yourself lately! Come here, come here." Dean was brought from his thoughts as Sergeant Hatred scooped him up and held him in his arms bridal style. He squeezed Dean tightly to his chest and sighed, carrying him to the kitchen where he sat him on the counter delicately. "Let me make you something, okay? I can make pretty much anything, what do you want?" But Dean just shrugged his response and sighed, hands gripping the edge of the cool marble counter. Sergeant Hatred took that as a challenge to try and make Dean happy by getting him something so amazing he would be blown away, right out of his sadness. He loved to see Dean smile, it was a blessing really. The kid had the sweetest little smile and the softest doe eyes that could make his heart melt in an instant. He often lived for the way Dean melted him internally. It was a rare time where they were alone together that he and Dean could really bond. Hatred went to the fridge and started to grab out ingredients. He quickly set out everything on the counter and filled the blender with some ice before adding in a bunch multiple scoops of ice-cream and loads of chocolate syrup. As he put the lid on the blender, he looked over at Dean who smiled at him fondly, obviously appreciating the effort that was being put into his comfort. 

Sergeant Hatred held out the glass of freshly blended milkshake to Dean and then cleaned up the kitchen and did the dishes quickly while Dean pleasantly sipped the drink. "It's really good… How do you always seem to know what I need at the time?" He laughed a little, toying with the straw with his fingertips then rested it against his lower lip and sipped it again. 

Dean hopped down from the counter, taking the drink with him and heading towards the living room, but he stopped a moment to look back at Sergeant Hatred who hovered back in the kitchen, struggling with whether to follow, while wrestling with feelings Dean always roused in him. "Are you gonna come with me? I kinda wanna just relax and not think about anything for a while." Dean headed to the couch in the living room and knelt onto the cushions with his drink in hand then grabbed the remote and brought the television to life. 

Sergeant Hatred stood in the doorway of the living room now, looking at the side of Dean's head and giving him a little crooked smile before he walked over to the couch. He slipped around the other side, but something in him dared to let him breach a boundary he'd set long ago, so he slipped onto the couch beside Dean and slipped his arm across the back of the couch behind Dean's head. Hatred couldn't help but peer down at Dean beside him while the teen scrolled through lists of movies and tried to pick one. He seemed so focused and dedicated to what he was doing, probably wanting to distract himself from his sadness over Hank's disappearance. He was worried about Hank as well, but orders were orders and Dean seemed to need him more anyway. Hank wanted to be free, it was obvious, but Dean wanted to belong to someone. Hatred knew the two had a very risque relationship, one that was not to be spoken of even though neither boy knew that he knew what they did. He had just stumbled across them one time when he was in a place he wasn't really supposed to be, but he would never say something unless Dean confided in him. 

Dean leaned back against the couch as he selected an older horror movie so he was captivated and able to be free of thought for a little while. "Is this movie okay with you?" He asked politely, received a brief confirmation, then played the movie quickly. He played with the straw of his drink with his tongue, occasionally pausing to take a sip of the deliciousness. "Do you know where Brock went off too?" 

"Ohhh… some… some business, he said he'd be back tonight…" Hatred responded a bit breathlessly, realizing how focused he'd been watching Dean drink the milkshake. He shook his head a little and rubbed his eyes with his right hand, not wanting to remove his arm from behind Dean, though. 

Feeling a shockingly cold hand rest against the side of his chest made him tense a little, but when he looked back down, Dean was no longer drinking or even holding the drink. He was turned facing him, giving him a strange look he hadn't seen on Dean's face before. It made his chest ache deeply and his head get a little dizzy, but Dean didn't move even as his own face started to grow flustered. Impulsively, Hatred pulled Dean's petite face closer, large hands delicately but firmly holding him in place as he pressed their lips together. Dean's mouth was cold and it tasted like chocolate, so he pressed his tongue against his lower lip and pushed into his mouth more. Dean made a sound of surprise against Sergeant Hatred's mouth, but didn't struggle at all, just panted and moaned a little as the larger man's tongue probed his mouth. Dean shakily decided to scoot just a bit closer, hand resting on Hatred's thigh lightly. This little movement gave Hatred a massive burst of confidence, feeling that Dean was actually getting into this. He leaned in more and pulled Dean all the way into his lap, hugging his thin frame close to his own body and slipping his hand under the sweater Dean wore. Sergeant Hatred groaned pleasantly as his fingers touched Dean's bare skin and traced up his chest where he quickly started to play with the tender pink buds that were already a little hard from the arousal. It felt so good to know Dean needed this too. 

The movie played in the background but neither of them paid any attention now, just remained preoccupied with the situation. Though still a bit nerve wracking, they would have this space to themselves for quite some time, so Hatred was going to take advantage of this little freedom and hope for the best. 

He pushed up Dean's shirt, latching his mouth onto the nipple he'd been playing with to nibble and suck, making Dean squirm in his lap and whimper. All the little sounds Dean made were quiet, shaky, and sounded like music within this moment. Hatred quickly toyed with Dean's frail body until he personally couldn't take it anymore and needed to free his hard-on from the restraints of his clothing. 

-

The elevator dinging open made Hatred sit up straight on the couch, looking over to see Doctor Venture heading to the kitchen, ignoring his presence entirely. Hatred fixed his shirt up and looked down at where Dean was asleep on the couch beside him, half naked, snoring a little. He hoped the doctor would just quickly get what he needed and leave so Hatred could cuddle up with Dean again and maybe even wake him up for sloppy seconds in a little while.

Fortunately, Rusty left without even a word or a glance, turning off all the lights and leaving them both in the darkness except for the TV that was just about to roll credits on the movie Dean played earlier. Hatred tucked himself back with Dean, pulling him against his body and breathing in the soft hair at the nape of Dean's neck. Dean sighed pleasantly and wiggled back against him naturally in his sleep and mumbled a few words to him, but the only one understandable was 'Hank'. It was rather precious that Dean loved his brother so much. Hatred appreciated their mutual sin, taking a moment to be glad it wasn't only him with highly regrettable interests. He stroked Dean's side and kissed against his neck, waking the boy from his little nap. "Do you want to go to sleep?" He mumbled against his skin, the response being only a soft nod, so Hatred scooped him up quickly, tenderly carrying Dean off to bed. 

-

Dean yawned awake, stretching his arms and legs in the morning sun's rays that peered at him through the partially closed curtains. His body felt a bit sore, but it was honestly nice. The dull ache reminded him of something that felt good, something other than his brother that made him feel alive, but it was never enough. If Hank was here too, then maybe he'd be officially satisfied forever. He wanted to be held, protected, and to keep his other half close by and safe. Dean would throw himself on the line for Hank in any instance; And any moment in time would be better with Hank there. He picked up his phone and checked his messages, but there was nothing new from last time, so he just plopped his phone back down and rolled onto his back in the comfy bed, feeling warmth against his side. Dean looked up at the man sleeping beside him, smiling a little as he watched him sleeping for a moment. He thought about something Hank had said about this man and let himself think about it for a while. Dean wondered if subconsciously he'd longed for it again and that's what brought him to this, but the loneliness that coursed through him made his mind think otherwise. 

_ The ropes were so tight he knew there would be bruises on his arms for days afterwards. The desperation had made his mother forget he was delicate and she'd tied him up too tight. Dean rested on the dirty mattress, eyes shut tight as he tried to wiggle his hands loose enough to where they didn't hurt so much. He sighed shakily, then felt Hank's forehead against his own, "Dean… turn over, let me help a little." They both agreed to flip back to back and Hank managed to help Dean's hands be situated better, but he could not free him, the knots were expertly tied. They returned to facing each other again and Dean gave a half smile, tears in the corner of his eyes. "Oh, don't get all teary eyed on me now." Hank laughed a little at him, but stopped short from teasing him as the tears cascaded along Dean's face and dripped onto the mattress. "Aw...D-Dean… hey itll be okay. Seriously…" Hank scooted closer, bumping Dean with his forehead again, then tucking himself against Dean so his chin rested on top of Dean's head and Dean could rest his forehead against Hank's broad chest. Neither of them could fall asleep entirely, but like this they could at least relax a little more.  _

Dean could experience in his memory the wholeness he had felt when they were still together. The emptiness was also extra persistent now, having seen again that he needed Hank's comfort and presence. He could feel the other half of his soul was missing. 

"There you go again." Sergeant Hatred spoke up and startled him out of his mind. "Lost in thought… looking forlorn and lonely. You thinking about Hank?" His voice was scratchy with sleep. 

"Ah, yeah you got me… again. I think somethings wrong with me…" Dean sat up and looked at the window where the sun shone through. "I keep having dreams about him… sometimes they are good, but other times they are horrible. Sometimes they don't even feel like dreams, they feel like past lives and I'm reliving something that I will never understand… Like all the ones that came before me are clawing at me from inside my head..." He trailed off in thought, resting his chin in his palm and getting lost again. 

Hatred stared at Dean's back for a moment, a little shocked to hear him sounding so distant and clearly hurting deeply. "He'll be okay… you'll see him again." He reached up and traced his fingers along Dean's body, tenderly pulling him back down and spooning him into a tight embrace. Dean sighed shakily and closed his eyes, resting a surprisingly also shaky hand on Hatred arm as he relaxed into the comfort. The warmth felt nice and his arms were big and strong so Dean tried to get himself a little more time asleep.

\--

"Dean!! DEAN!" Doctor Venture yelled as he entered into the living space, startling Dean into a panic across the table from Sergeant Hatred. Dean dropped his spoon on the table and stopped eating his cereal, biting his lip as his father burst into the kitchen. "Wh-what..?" Dean leaned back a little, trying not to be scared, but he would always be a little scared of his father. 

"I thought i told you to leave this whole Hank business alone and go back to school?! You think you can just skip your classes and I won't know? I told you to give up with this bullshit, you know he will come crawling back, begging for my help. He can't do shit on his own and neither can you. Now get your ass dressed and go back to your classes. I don't want to see your face around here until…. I don't know… next semester or whatever! Focus on your studies! For fucks sake!" Rusty turned and huffed out the room, leaving no space for Dean to respond. Not that he would have had anything much to say that would have mattered. His father did not care and he did not listen. Dean stared down at his bowl of cereal and sighed, pushing it away from himself a bit and leaning back against the cushioned seat. He looked up to see Hatred looking back at him with a look of sadness and longing, but he did not say anything. After all, Rusty was his boss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heres the art!!!!!! https://twitter.com/deaddemonbunny/status/1321857370281013248?s=09  
> Follow me for more!!!! 
> 
> I am working on the final chapter now.... B)


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